Summer Sweetheart
by Jafibunny
Summary: Every summer, Alfred Jones travels to England to spend his vacation at his grandmother's house that is located to a little town of Soundstone. After meeting the breathtaking Brit named Arthur, he realizes that this year is going to be different. (USUK/UKUS)
1. Chapter 1

**I must say a few things before the story: **I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia. Almost everything, including the town, is completely fictional and has nothing to do with real people and places (if we do not count England and America).

The story's atmosphere is tender and indeed _sweet_ and reminds me of acoustic guitar playing with slightly off-tune singing.

Please remember that I cannot spell English perfectly, because it is not my native language.

* * *

Alfred felt his heart beating more rapidly in excitement when he thought of the upcoming journey to England. Every summer he went there to spend his vacation in a little town where his grandmother lived. The happiest memories he had were from the town of Soundstone. It was a bizarre name indeed, but Alfred loved everything about it. His luggage was getting filled with various clothes and comic books as he hummed some cheesy love song that was currently played on radio. A smile that Alfred couldn't restrain formed on his lips. He had a lot of reasons to be happy right now.

The boy was very fond of his homecountry, United States of America, and was proud of being American. But England felt like another home. It was true that he was not the best at geography, but he knew the British Isles. They attracted him; their legends, people, languages... (Alfred would never tell anyone that ten years back he thought them being a part of America) In some point of life he even tried to catch the accent, even though it was quickly left behind as a good try. To be honest, he loved England as much as he loved America. Although the American had visited England for several times, he hadn't got any friends from there. Soundstone didn't have much people that were same-aged as Alfred. But every summer he hoped to make friends there. Within a year the humans living in the town did not change much, but there always was a chance, right?

The buddies he had in America were nice, but not really close. Alfred wanted a real friend. When he was having a bad day and wanted to speak with someone, his 'friends' just ignored it and wanted to have fun instead of comforting or listening. Well, things like that were a _'gay'_ thing to do as a man, as society seemed to think. Why it wasn't normal? Girls do it all the time. The deepest conversation that he had had with his 'friends' was about the question of the slice of bread always ending on the floor with the buttered side down. How frivolous. If he tried to speak with a girl, they thought that Alfred was flirting to them. Maybe England had better friends to offer.

For a seventeen-year-old teenager Alfred Jones had experienced much. His parents had divorced before he had turned five and Alfred's father disappeared out of sight. Practically Alfred was completely raised by his mother. They weren't close, unlike what anyone would have thought. His mother pretty much ignored him. The only one actually close to Alfred was his grandmother Catherine. She always listened to his miseries, appreciated his choices and had a gentle smile on her lips. This grandmother was not the usual type, who bakes every day and drowns her grandchildren with money. Often she asked Alfred to help her keeping the house up, cleaning it or going to the shop whenever they needed something. Alfred did not mind at all, he loved lending a hand to people, especially grandma. She was kind without having to give anything. Every time Alfred received something from her, it was big and expensive. These presents were treasured greatly by him. The tickets to England were also bought by his grandmother. The blue-eyed youngster just couldn't thank her enough.

But this summer was going to be special. Alfred felt it in his lungs. He was going to turn eighteen in England – and not just that, grandmother had said that she had a surprise for him. Whatever it was, Alfred knew that he would love it.

,,,

"Hello again England!" shouted this young man who had finally arrived out of the said country's airport. He breathed the air deeply and let the British atmosphere tingle in him. It was uncharacteristically sunny. Busy businessmen ran around the building. There were also happy families welcoming their beloved members back to their homeland. And we are not forgetting the stereotypically loud American tourists with cameras. Even when the ambiance was expediting, it felt joyous. Alfred was stuck marveling the milieu. Almost he forgot that there was a bus for him to go to. Quickly he ran to the already known stop and made it just in time. The bus ride was going to be dull, but he had his MP3 along so it was not big of a problem. Slowly his eyelids went down as he listened to relaxing music and watched the beautiful view of British countryside from the bus.

Alfred got awaken when the bus stopped. When looked through the windows, could see that the evening had gone far already. "Hey, lad, we are in Soundstone", the driver shouted friendly from the front seat. Quickly he grabbed his luggage and walked dazedly out of the long vehicle. Just a few lights were seen in the town. Good that Alfred recognized the place even better than his jeans' pockets so he knew where his grandmother's house was located at. Soon he was at her front door and was welcomed warmly regardless of the time.

"Let's get you sleeping, Alfred dear, before anything. I will show the surprise on tomorrow morning", was the first words Catherine uttered when Alfred stepped in while swaying slightly from tiredness. Since Alfred was her only grandchild, he had a room arranged only for him. He got asleep the moment he crashed down on the bed. Catherine chuckled softly as she left the room.

The sunrays thought that it was alright to invade Alfred's room through the big window and attack on the sleeping American. Outside the birds had prepared a splendid concert for Alfred to wake up. Sadly this blue-eyed adolescent was not amused. Soon he forgave them both when he smelled the most wonderful smell to exist on mornings like this; _bacon! _As quick as he could he wore proper clothes and went devouring the praised British breakfast that was set by his grandmother. "Good morning, dear. I see that you slept well. Why won't we go looking at your surprise at outside?" asked she with an impatient grin.

It didn't take long until they both were standing on the front yard, looking at a brand-new, shining bike. When Alfred finally found out what his present was this time, his mouth got open with amazement. "It's… Awesome! Thank you so much!" he rejoiced as he studied the bike. The American never really got anything else than a little amont of weekly allowance, so this was a big thing to him. Grandma did not do anything but smile. "I'm glad that you like it. Would you be so sweet that you'd go to the store with it? Here's the shopping list and money", was heard as an answer as Catherine bestowed the said things to the youngster. With a wide grin the American boy bicycled off the lawn.

He was not in a rush; that's why Alfred was very slowly getting forward. Rather than concentrating on the main task, he liked to look around and admire the beautiful buildings. Many had decorated their yards with great effort. Alfred noted that the British seemed to like row houses a lot. He even saw some countryside near the town. As he continued bicycling in the speed near to a snail's, Alfred got slightly closer to the shop. More haste, less speed.

A soft humming filled the air and distracted the American to get him stopping and looking at where it came from. The first thing he saw was a white balcony that had nice little ornaments, noticeable blossoms everywhere on the structure and a little tea table with two adorned chairs that matched with it. It was in the same level as the ground so Alfred could actually climb inside if he wanted to. On the balcony stood a young man, maybe in the same age as Alfred. He seemed to be the culprit to the voice, unaware of the exceptional listener. The man was watering flowers that embellished the place. To describe this supposed Englishman, who was shorter than Alfred, he had a mellow-looking blond hair and strongly black eyebrows that made his face even more handsome. His clothes were quite plain with a white t-shirt and loose blue jeans. Alfred did not notice that he was staring until the singing paused.

"Hey, um… Am I doing something strange to gain your stare…?" said the man on the balcony that was just a few feet next to the blue-eyed boy who stood there holding his bike. The blush of embarrassment flooded on Alfred's face. "Oh, I'm sorry, dude. Didn't mean to… I mean, you have a nice balcony", he tried to explain his actions with a slight guilt.

"Thank you…?" the little confusion poked the Brit. Not every day came people complimenting his flowers. "I haven't seen you around here before. Are you possibly from America, according to the accent?" he continued.

"Yeah, but I'm here for summer since my grandma's living here", Alfred grinned. Maybe this Englishman could be his new friend?

The man answered with a gentle smile. "You're not a tourist, then. I see. My name is Arthur", cooed this person and Alfred noticed that the Brit had a very feminine face. Arthur crossed his arms on the balcony's railing and leant to it. The speed of the American's racing heart got faster a little for an unknown reason. "I'm Alfred Jones", prated the blue-eyed as he got a little closer to the balcony leading the bike within him. Arthur shot a stare on Alfred's eyes to study them.

"Your eye colour is nice… They remind me of _veronica chamaedrys, _germander speedwell. Too bad that it's a weed", trifled the Brit playfully after a little silence. Alfred did not really figure out how he was supposed to react since Arthur did not seem to be meaning to be mean. The rare color of green adorned the Englishman's eyes. To Alfred they reminded him of the first verdant grass blades that informed people that the spring's come. Those heralds were the American's one of the biggest delights after a long, cold winter. The boy noticed himself completely captivated by the eyes.

"Um, thanks. Yours is cool too", he replied. Alfred was not the kind who could form his thoughts into words so well. He had a lot of magnificent ideas to write, but the writing (and grammar) itself was challenging. The teachers at school weren't really encouraging by giving Fs to nearly every essay he had to write.

Arthur seemed to be amused by the answer. "I get that a lot. But thank you", was the simple sentence that was said with a mesmerizing British tone, what made it much more notable.

"Is this apartment your own?" asked Alfred. He was sure that Arthur was new in this area, since he wasn't there last summer. It was not common for a boy in the same age as Alfred to have an own accommodation, even when it was a small one.

"Yes, I think that for a 21-year-old independence from parents is very usual", the Brit answered calmly. He was not offended by the question.

"Oh, I thought that you are still in high school..." Alfred said without noticing his rudeness. Just the face of Arthur expressed the nonplussed reaction. But because the American did not mean bad by that, he tried to ignore the comment.

"So... You are going to spend the entire summer in Soundstone? No London?" the Englishman uttered.

"Yeah, I like it better here. From the first day of June to the tenth of August." Arthur looked surprised by the length. Then he continued watering the plants silently. "That's a long break. Won't you get bored?"

"It might get boring, but I've got lots of comics and stuff to keep me entertained at least for a while. I don't really know anyone around here so I can't really hang out with people... Even though we speak the same language!" pratteled Alfred.

"I must agree. I think that you are the first person to actually talk to me around here. I just moved to Soundstone, you see", Arthur smiled softly.

"Ah, okay... Hey, I promised to grandma that I go buying some groceries from the shop around here, so I must go... But same place, same time, tomorrow...?" Alfred asked hopefully and received a nod from the Brit. "Alright."

So the two gave each other goodbyes and went back to their lives with a little pounding fascination in their chest caused by the other.

This summer was not going to be uneventful for them.

* * *

**Author's rambling that you can skip:**

(8:07 A.M., May 18, 2014)

I want to congratulate you for reading it completely. I hope that it didn't have a too boring start. I have planned this very well if compared to the earlier stories. I managed to write seven pages of just ideas concerning the story. I'm still kind of new at this writing thing, so I want to ask you to use a little kinder words if you have to inform me of something you didn't really like in the story. The next chapter will be more eventful, I promise.

Since the summer has landed on my home country too, once I get on the summer vacation (not long until it starts…!) I surely will be writing more. I have a few ideas in my head already and they wait for getting written or drawn.

I recommend you to listen to certain songs when you read this story. They inspired me and help with imagining the atmosphere. Please search "Never Shout Never" from YouTube. "Trampoline" is my favourite, but there are many others that suit into this story, such as "Happy", "Big city dreams", "lovesick" and others. Oh, and a few from "The Cure". "Friday I'm in love" and "Close to me". Wait, there's one more. Osamuiraisan's cover from "Hello, How are you".

If you want to imagine the town of Soundstone, it's very much like the town in "the last of the Summer wine". It's one of my favourite TV-shows!

I think that I may talk a little too much on these personal sections so I'll end it here.

P.S. I just noticed how much I dislike the word "belly".


	2. Chapter 2

When Alfred finally got to the place he had started calling home, he couldn't bear not telling his grandma about Arthur. Catherine just chuckled with amusement. She was happy for Alfred, who finally found some company and didn't have to lie on the bed from day to day reading comics. The boy felt something pleasant tingling in his chest and stomach; was it excitement? Waiting patiently for tomorrow sounded like an impossible task. Alfred couldn't stop smiling wider.

The next day was a little cloudy, but the sunrays peered occasionally from the clouds to smile for a while and remind that it was there all along. The birds had prepared another concert to wake the American boy up, but it went to waste since he had his eyes open before they even got to the start. I bet that you could even say 'Excellent!' in the time Alfred jumped on his bike and went towards the apartment house Arthur lived in. The Englishman was already composedly waiting on the balcony.

"Why wouldn't we go inside and have a cup of tea?"

Alfred was already very fond of that pacifying British voice of Arthur's. The boy jumped over the railing leaving his bike leaning to the balcony's side. Arthur did not look very amused of the American's choice, but kept silent and stepped inside gesturing for the boy to come in. It seemed as there was not a possibility of declining the tea, since the kettle had already boiled the water and the small table held porcelain tableware that had pictures of little painted flowers in soft colors of red and purple. The apartment itself wasn't as decorated as the balcony; to be exact, it was very plain and small. There was a one dark blue couch and a little stand in front of it. In kitchen was the table that held the porcelain. Next to kitchen was a white door with a lock; supposedly it was a restroom with a shower. The living room had a door that lead to Arthur's bedroom. When Arthur was done pouring tea in cups, they both sat at the table. This gorgeous Brit sipped tea while Alfred thought of a way to say politely that he preferred coffee.

"Um, Arthur… I don't really drink tea, so…" he muttered cautiously, trying to get a contact with his eyes.

"Oh, I tend to forget that you're American", Arthur smiled softly. It was quiet in the kitchen; a ticking clock on the wall came to Alfred's notice. Listening to it for any longer than a few minutes would have made the American crazy. If he had understood right, the Englishman didn't know anyone from the town, so he must have spent a lot of time in the apartment. Was every day like this? Just listening to that annoying clock? In the States Alfred usually laid on the bed reading or being on the computer. Of course he spent time with his friends, but they weren't too nice company so Alfred mostly stayed inside the house.

"Hey, can I call you Artie? You can call me Al, if you want", grinned the American, getting a sudden confused look that changed to a nervous smile.

"It's alright, I think…"

"Now that we're friends, I want to know you better, Artie! You said you just moved here, right? Where did you live before?" Alfred beamed in a loud voice. He succeeded to break the fragile ambiance and was glad of it. The Englishman blushed slightly at the word 'friends'.

"I… I suppose so. I come from London."

"London? That's awesome! What was the life there like?"

"It depends on how you choose to live there. I'd say that it was too hectic", Arthur said in an impassive tone.

"How do you live in America? I mean, what is the everyday life there like?"

Alfred liked that question. For a moment he thought of what things he'd tell.

"Hmm… It's a lot different there. Nothing's really near, you have to go everywhere with a car. High school is full of jerks, eh… The States is full of various people around the world, so if you like the Chinese, you can meet them on streets. Oh, and I have a brother, Matthew. We aren't actually related, since my parents have divorced and my new 'dad' from Canada took his son from his earlier marriage, so Mattie's completely Canadian. We consume a lot of coffee in our house. My room's messy, but it's not like I dislike cleaning. We are on good terms with Mattie, because he's still my little brother even if our parents aren't the same. He dates a Frenchie named Francis, he's a nice guy but a little pervy I think. Once Matthew did a terrible prank on me; when I was sleeping peacefully on a perfect Saturday morning, he dropped a sizzling hot pancake on my face! Oh, by the way, I like hero comics a lot…" the American prattled zealously. Arthur sipped tea in a calm manner and listened carefully for every word that came out of Alfred's mouth.

"You do notice that you talked a lot more about yourself than the country itself?" the Englishman commented, when the enthusiastic boy had finally stopped babbling. Alfred looked at Arthur, puzzled of those words that can be considered as impolite, not sure how to react. Then the Brit chuckled sheepishly.

"It's alright. I like listening when you speak, it reminds me of an eight-year-old who got new toys on Christmas", he said, and Alfred blushed a little at 'eight-year-old'.

"Dude, I'm seventeen, soon eighteen!" pouted the teenager boy. Arthur wasn't even that much older! Matthew was a year younger than him, and still dated a creepy Frenchman who was 24 years old. It wasn't fair of Arthur to make child jokes on him.

"Sorry if I'm being quite harsh for your taste. It's just in my tongue to be a little straight-forward", the Englishman apologized, not looking too guilty. It was okay for Alfred's part to receive little teasing, he didn't mind.

"I guess; you like coffee over tea!" he stated with eyes glinting in that mysterious color. Alfred nodded as an answer.

"Didn't you work in a café?"

"Oh, yeah, about that… You should visit it sometime", smiled the Brit. "It's near to the shop you visited yesterday."

"Ah, I know the place", Alfred announced. Never had he bothered to go there, though.

"What kind of things do you like?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, I know that you like comics, but what else?" asked Arthur. It took a moment until Alfred understood the question through his thoughts.

"Ah! Well, I like heroes a lot. It's not really possible to be a one like in the comics, but it would be awesome to save a life sometime, y'know? Helping people is so fun that I'd like to have a job like that. What about you? I bet that you actually didn't want to be a worker at a café", Alfred spoke softly. Arthur was almost as young as Alfred, so he still had chances to do whatever he wanted, the man must have a dream of some sort. The Brit looked thoughtful for quite a time before answering.

"…I'm satisfied with my life here. Maybe serving drinks wasn't the job I dreamt of, but it isn't bad at all. My wish has been granted already, so I'm just happy", he smiled in a way that was hard to interpret was it really purely happy.

"What kind of wish was i-"

"My, my, you have been here an hour already. I don't want your grandmother to get worried and I really have things to do…" Arthur said apologetically. Alfred didn't clearly see what the green-eyed man had meant with interrupting his sentence. Quickly they went to the balcony and the American jumped over the railing again to end up on street. The bike was not stolen by anyone, so Alfred took the handlebar in his hold.

"Tomorrow, same time, this place?" the boy asked grinning.

"I have work, remember, tomorrow's a Monday…"

"Ah, alright. When does it end for you?" Arthur looked a little surprised at the query.

"On three o'clock."

"Okay! Can you hang out with me after that?" Again, an astonished face that was given from the Brit. The carefree-natured American got a canny nod. Alfred grimaced widely before he turned his back and started bicycling home leaving behind the shorter blonde, who was severely bemused of this boy who had just suddenly jumped into his life, crushing the acceptance of the ignorance he usually got from people around him.

Did this rapidly pounding heart mean… happiness?

A smile formed on Arthur's face, a real one.

* * *

**Author speaking some nonsense for you:**

(10:29 P.M., May 31, 2014)

I wrote this chapter for three days, and can you believe, it's so short. It was so hard to concentrate…! My vacation started today, officially. Or tomorrow. I'm not really sure. Congratulations for reading this story so far, I hope that the plot goes more entertaining on the next chapters!

To be exact, I have no knowledge of the life in a small town. I've always lived in a city that can be called big (in Finland's scale?) so my experience is just from my imagination and TV-shows… I was very glad of the review one guest sent! Of course, all reviews and favourites were and are a big delight for me!

Thank you!

P.S. I have drawn a couple pictures of Arthur's flat, so if you want to see them, the link is in my profile.


	3. Chapter 3

The sky had gone cloudy. It was a bright day, even when the sun was hidden behind the clouds, they weren't ominous like the ones to rain. Obviously it was a consequence of the highly loved days blessed with wonderful sunlight; if not today, the rainy days were not far away from coming back. Rain was not a bad thing at all, no matter what people say. We should think before complaining about the weather. Who wouldn't hate rain that rains for days? Who wouldn't hate the parching sunlight that hasn't got blocked by clouds for days?

Anyway, that day was simply another one in England. The summer didn't mean vacation for everyone, so workers did their work without any grousing. In a little town like Soundstone, every single thing that happened was soon in the mouths of tea-drinking old ladies, and shortly after that, in knowledge of the whole town. Alfred's appearance was not a big gossip, since it had been expected, but Arthur's was. When the young, absolutely handsome man (who had barely 21 years behind) _moved _to a shabby little place like Soundstone, it was a great surprise for everyone. Every single thing he did was being watched. The girls of many ages were overly excited of this mysterious young man, who was nothing of the kind of men the town had to offer. The people of Soundstone knew each other too well, had always known, but Arthur was above their reach. That was why everyone tried to get a grasp of him, to get to know the man so he wouldn't be so big of a mystery.

With his beloved bike our American, Alfred, got in front of the café named 'Warm Silence'. It was the center of youngsters in this town, every teenager gathered there for a nice cup of tea or coffee, whatever they preferred. Especially, when people heard that a certain green-eyed Brit was working there, the café was even more popular than before. Since the café was often the scene of local rumors, calling it 'Warm Silence' every time was tiring. The town had succeeded to create it a dramatic nickname that was short but descriptive; 'Sigh'. It had almost been philosophical, because 'Warm Silence' got the most thinking of a cold winter that had a house that knew nothing of it; inside danced a fire happily in the fireplace, there were books on a wooden table and on a comfortable armchair sat a man with warm clothes and a scarf, and he drank cocoa. 'Sigh' was the silent noise that he made after sipping a little of the drink after a long day.

Well, the café itself was everything else but silent at the moment. Three o'clock was busy time. Eventually the Brit came out of the door, getting greeted happily by Alfred.

"You really came? One of a lad you are", smirked Arthur as they started walking down the road that led them towards the Englishman's apartment. Just a little laughter came for an answer. Alfred could not handle his amusement of Arthur's straight-forwardness. The man was imaged in Alfred's thoughts as a soft but a little spiky. They filled the quiet streets with laughter and jokes. It was actually nice, walking together like this. Little by little, Alfred felt that Arthur was the friend he had been searching for. Judging by his gestures it was the same for the man. Their age gap was very little, to be exact. But with Arthur it felt nonexistent. Somehow, it did not feel like Arthur was some kind of 'adult' and Alfred was a 'teenager', it felt just like they were Arthur and Alfred, nothing else really mattered than that. It was hard to explain.

When they finally had reached the door to Arthur's apartment, the Brit turned to look at Alfred. The walk had felt like an eternity, a nice one. The American waited for an 'I have a lot to do tonight, I'm sorry' kind of phrase to come. Well, he had already thought of asking the man to spend another day with him, if not today.

"Hey, aren't you coming for tea? I got coffee for you, in case that you come sneaking here as often as now."

Alfred raised his glance again to Arthur, but it wasn't a question, it was a glad answer that beamed from his face without words. His beautifully sparkling eyes were so penetrating that it got Arthur to blush a little. So the both boys went into the little apartment and Arthur put the kettle singing.

,,,

"And you know, my buddy, Thomas, tried once to flirt with a pretty girl. No offence, but he's kinda unattractive, even when he thinks that he's hot as heck. Of course this chick noticed his high confidence, and said: 'If you get brains, I'll get you a girlfriend.'" The both let out a noisy laughter and if someone had been home on the neighborhood, they would've winced at the voices coming from the usually silent fellow Englishman's side.

The kitchen table was filled with porcelain tableware. It was the same from the other day, but Alfred hadn't even known that it contained this much dishes. There were a nice set of different kinds of pastries that got the American's attention first when he eyed the table. They had nice time, funny jokes to share. Sometimes they even got to more serious topics, and Alfred felt a big gust of happiness that Arthur actually enjoyed it, he didn't try to avoid them or understate them, didn't wait for the American to start joking again. Even faster than the boys had noticed, the town was getting ready to sleep and Alfred was in a hurry to get home.

"You're not even eighteen, maybe as a 'grown-up' I should walk you home", the Brit commented playfully. He was just teasing a little that Alfred was still underage even if their ages were almost the same.

Soon they were in front of Catherine's house, and Arthur turned walking towards his apartment disappearing in the dark. As Alfred's grandmother she wasn't worried, just a little cheeky grin formed on her lips when she got to comment sharply her grandson's lateness.

"So he's that boyfriend of yours? That Arthur lad?" she smirked as they both ate evening meal.

"Cut that out, grandma. Just a friend", he answered with a same kind of adamant grin, because he knew that she was kidding.

"If you say so", was the sarcastic answer. Alfred really couldn't believe that grandma was in her fifties, when she acted more like she was his sister.

It was almost midnight when the blue-eyed boy decided to go sleeping. The whole day had been fun, starting from three o'clock. They had not promised of meeting tomorrow too, but Alfred was sure to meet Arthur from Sigh. It was really wonderful to have a real friend. They had known each other barely for three days, and he already felt like they had known forever. If he had to compare this feeling to something, he would say that his life hadn't even _started _before this. Maybe it was too early to say things like this, but Alfred was sure of it all.

It felt so surreal, the life in America, now that he had come to England again. His shallow friends, humdrum life and a big void in his chest got him feeling like life was existent only in fiction. Somehow the life in United States felt like a dream, blurry faces and busy movements everywhere. The love for his home country hadn't gone anywhere, but England was just as home. A warm embrace, filled with love and silence that told more than thousands of words.

But this summer got him living. Living more than in years he had done. Maybe it happened because he got far away from the stress that haunted him by the studies in America. It was like an escape to a protecting hug. Now he could forget and forgive; he lived more than anyone would imagine in a little town like Soundstone. The world felt much more welcoming and friendly place than Alfred remembered, when there were towns that were peaceful as the clouds on sunny days. There were no hurry, no haste, everything just went on. You could just spend a day on grass and it wouldn't matter, because it felt like there was no a thing as time. The days passed – such a thing as time wasn't important. That was the feeling that freed Alfred from all the pain, all the stress he got before coming to England. Summers were special to him, because all negative would disappear when he stepped out the door of the airport.

* * *

**Author's comment box:**

(4:31 A.M., June 8, 2014)

Why does it always go this late?

Anyways, thank you for reading this chapter! It went kind of philosophical, but that's the kind I love to write the most. I think that I'm getting a grasp of writing in English. My personal writing style is maybe beginning to appear in the stories. When I reread this, I can't even believe that I have written all this text. I'm really starting to consider of showing this to my English teacher after summer vacation!

Most of people really don't care of my philosophical thoughts, but if you found this chapter fine, you are wonderful. Just… so wonderful!

And English Guest, you are amazing! Thank you! I listened to that song, and it was very nice! I think that it suits very well!


	4. Chapter 4

The time went on and on, without being noticed at all. Alfred was living a daydream by spending time with Arthur. They did not have awkward moments. They had become so close that they didn't need words. Just the presence of the other one was enough to delight their day. It was the nicest dream ever, happening in reality. Sometimes they would lie on a grass field that felt endless, just watching the clouds fly by. Sometimes they would wait until the sky was dark and the stars appeared, shining mysteriously on the black canvas. And always they would have fun, as long as they were together.

And soon it was the third week of June. Alfred had learnt a lot of things about Arthur. If saw through the sharp words he said, could notice a kind heart the Englishman had in the right place. He was the type to do cordial things that went mostly unnoticed, as putting chairs under the table after using, giving money to the charity, switching off the lights when he went out of the room and carefully placing a blanket over Alfred who had fallen asleep on the couch during a sleepover. He was a real gentleman. Not a rich, noble hypocrite, but a man that sincerely thought of others without wanting to have anything in return. Alfred admired this part of Arthur. He was like a hero of everyday life, helping everyone in secret… Of course the boy kept his mouth shut about knowing this all, because Arthur got strangely ashamed when he got 'caught' of being benevolent like this.

But of course he had his flaws, too. When Arthur didn't approve of something, he had that deathly glare. If glances could kill, more than half of the human population would be gone by his eyes. Ah, those eyes. Those usually so lively, calm eyes got strict and his look was so sharp that Alfred wouldn't be surprised if someone got pierced alive by it.

"Hey, Al?" the Brit looked at him, when they were sitting on a big rock inside the woods that located near to the town. It was a sunny day, so the boys had gone outside. When it rained, they spent time at Arthur's apartment, listening to raindrops. It was an unwritten rule to be silent during rain, so they read books, watched movies, anything that didn't cause too much noise, so they could hear the dropping water. Well, now the weather was filled with warm light. The woods were twilit, since the surrounding trees happened to create soft shadows over the ground. The rock stood out between the trees, but it was perfect to sit on.

The American boy turned to look at Arthur and tilted his head in a quizzical manner.

"Some time ago I happened to hear a story of this town's name", he continued. "Have you heard it?"

"No, I haven't", answered Alfred.

"This rock we're sitting on is the original 'Soundstone'." Arthur kept a pause that highlighted those words. "Whilst this town is just a little more than hundred years old, it has its own legend. It all starts from this place." Alfred noticed that he wasn't supposed to comment anything.

"There has always been human settlement surrounding these woods, but it had never been more than just a few families wanting to live in a supposedly peaceful place. The children often played in the woods and this rock here was their favourite place to spend time. Around here lived a girl, whose name was Laurence. She was a young, pretty child. One day she played at the rock with other children, as always, but when the sky started becoming dark, others left. Also did Laurence, but on the way home she noticed that she had forgotten her necklace on the rock. Hurriedly ran she back there. In dark she couldn't find the place, and soon she was lost. Laurence wandered in the woods for long, until she saw a dot of light far away. She thought that her family had started searching her, so she opted to walk towards that light. The nearer the girl got, she heard more of voices that she assumed to be calling her. When Laurence reached the light, it wasn't her family. It was the rock. Its arcane colour was shining in shades of green and blue, and covert voices talked and singed in an unknown language. Suddenly the necklace wasn't important anymore, the frightened child knew the way home from the stone and ran quickly back home. At first the girl wasn't believed, but when more people came living here, more sightings with the same kind of story were reported. So they all concluded that the 'speaking' stone is the meeting place of the faeries. That's how they started calling it a 'Soundstone', and when the village grew and grew, soon it became a name of the town. But, from the gossips I've heard during working in Sigh, the sightings haven't stopped from increasing…" The story was ended with a mysterious smile. The wind sang while jostling the trees on its way. Every single sound near the stone got the American even more uncomfortable. Alfred couldn't break the heavy atmosphere Arthur had just created between them.

"This is just a legend, isn't it?" he managed to say. Arthur's grin got wider. He was obviously amused by the comment.

"Well, we do not know. It is an old story, not written anywhere, so it must have changed many times by travelling from a generation to another one", he smirked. Somehow, Alfred didn't feel as comfortable anymore for sitting on this stone.

"Could we go to your house now? It's getting cold here…" he said, obviously a bit lying as they jumped off the rock. Arthur had that cocky smile on his face that supposedly saw how aversive Alfred had got of that rock they earlier visited so fondly.

When they finally reached Arthur's home, the Englishman hurriedly started filling the table as always. Alfred waited at the table, sitting on a chair as he watched him with those admiring eyes. Oh yes, he had a little crush on the Brit. While their tea drinking had become a daily habit (although Alfred drank coffee), they stayed on the table for hour or two, just talking about everything or nothing, important or not, and the treats on the table that always got forgotten in the end when speaking got all the attention from the boys. They loved the silence as they loved the noise – just if it was caused by the other. They had an everyday routine of meeting each other without ever getting tired. Alfred loved his company.

"Hey, Al, I got an idea. If you'd call your grandmother so you could stay here for the night, and we'd go out seeing if the rumours are true?" Arthur chimed in excitement as he poured black coffee into Alfred's cup. The boy's face didn't express much support for the idea.

"Are you sure that it's okay…? I mean, I'd gladly stay here, but _dude, _I don't think that there is any common sense by going at some stupid rock because of some rumors", Alfred pouted. Arthur smirked ominously.

"Oh dear, you aren't saying that you really got scared of it…?" he started chuckling as Alfred's face got redder. "Besides, this town doesn't have _that _kind of bad old men."

"I'm not scared! Why would I be? Fine, I'll come", Alfred announced. "If we would do this in _my _home town, it could have really bad consequences, because it's not a little village like this place." Obviously the latter comment amused Arthur who smirked again.

And so, after the evening turned into a night, the two boys got out of the house. While trying to be quiet they walked until the woods were just in front of them.

"So… Are we going now?" the unsure American asked. The idea didn't allure him.

Without even giving an answer the Brit continued walking to a trail that would eventually lead them to the rock. Reluctantly Alfred stepped behind him, suspecting every little cracking sound that wasn't theirs. In the halfway of the trail, Arthur lowered their speed until they stopped.

"What is it?" Alfred was a little concerned, but curious. Why did he stop? But then, Alfred noticed it too.

Not too far away, there was a shiny dot. Strange, distant voices came from the same direction. The dot flickered frequently. For a moment that felt like hours they stood there, not letting a sound. Silently Arthur turned his head to Alfred's direction with widened eyes, and they both knew what they would do next: _run._

So the boys run out of the woods with a high-pitched noise escaping from their throats as they rushed through the town (waking up a lot of people) until they got back to Arthur's apartment, choking and sweating from the run. They spent a moment in silent, just looking at each other, and then they burst to laughing loudly.

"What the heck was **that**! Okay, Artie, you'll have to promise that we're never going into the woods at dark again, I was so scared that I would've crapped my pants if we had stayed there even a second longer", Alfred breathed, after they had laughed enough.

"Alright, alright, you were right… But at least we learnt something", he grinned, taking a bottle of coke out of fridge.

"More like _you _learned that you should listen to me more", Alfred beamed playfully, letting himself to sit on the kitchen chair as Arthur gave them both a glass of the bubbly drink. And so the night went on, laughing and watching movies until they both got asleep on the couch.

If the boys would have been more attentive, they surely would have noticed that the light and the noise were caused by teenagers of the town, who kept little parties inside the woods due to the disturbance it could have made if they had stayed in the town. The stone instead wasn't at the spot the teenagers spent time, so its mystery still stayed unsolved by these two.

**Author's own spot:**

(12:55 P.M. 23rd of June)

Hi! Special thanks to everyone who has read this story so far!

I hope that the legend didn't sound too stupid. I don't know much about English legends, but I have 'studied' Finnish ones a little. The Finnish traditional legends are really kind of scary, when I was a child I got a little afraid of them. They have death omens, like a fish that was a mixture of a toad, weird voices telling you that you're going to die. But now I'm not in the mood to write much. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I try my best to write a new chapter in a week…


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